Games
by Lady Misaii
Summary: Turkey wasn't one for losing, and neither was Egypt.


**A/N: **I wrote this a few nights, in response to a friend's challenge of writing something Egypt related. I love Egypt, so of course I had to write this :D

**Disclaimer: **If Hetalia _was_ mine, Egypt, Turkey and Greece would get way more screen time. But all Hetalia characters respectfully belong to Hidekaz Himaruya!

**Pairing:** Implied Gupta x Sadiq // Egypt x Turkey

**Rating:** M - No smut, just some sexual themes/dirty humor/bad puns.

**Games**

----

It had been only twenty minutes in to the conference and Gupta was already _yawning_. Loud, hateful voices were heard throughout the room, each one yelling what were most likely curse words in their language. With all this vexatious noise, he wondered how it was possible for him to feel so tired in such a rambunctious atmosphere. He also wondered why he was invited to this discussion in the first place; it had nothing to do with him. Still, he was rarely invited to these international gatherings, and felt rather proud when he received word he was on the guest list. But t_his,_ this was far from what he was expecting the convention to be like. He clenched his jaw, hoping to hold in another yawn from escaping. Each blink he took lasted longer than the first, and if this meeting continued any longer he felt as if he would follow his friend Heracles in to a deep sleep.

The Greek country sat beside him, snoring peacefully and occasionally grunting ambiguous words in his slumber. Gupta recognized a few curse words, but only because the Greek would cuss the same words to a certain Turk if he got to close for comfort. He didn't quite understand why the two bickered and brawled so much; sure, Sadiq could be a bit incompetent sometimes, and yes, he did take advantage of his power during his younger days. Come to think of it, he wasn't all to reliable either, but the man still deserved _some_ respect. He did take them in after all.

Well, more like invaded, but that was beyond the point. He really didn't see anything bad about the guy.

The Turkish nation sat in front of him, mindlessly playing with his fez hat and twirling the velvet strings that fell from the ends of the cap. Though Gupta couldn't see eyes behind a mask, he was more than certain that the Mediterranean country was just as interested in this useless meeting as he was.

He tore his gaze from the older man and winced when he felt something leathery caress his feet, which were bare in his sandals. He pulled his feet beneath his chair and peered under the table, catching a glimpse of boots.

Big, black Turkish boots.

After recognizing who they belonged to, Gupta looked over at him again with narrowed eyes.

Sadiq had an awful grin on his face, obviously pleased with the reaction he had given earlier. It made the younger nation sick to his stomach. Once Sadiq pulled you into one of his games, he wouldn't stop playing until he won.

_'Don't. You. Dare.' _Gupta mouthed.

Sadiq pointed an innocent finger to his chest, giving him a confused look. _'Who? Me?'_ He mouthed back, another wicked smirk forming on his face.

He rolled his eyes in annoyance and faced England again, who had suddenly changed the subject from working together on a project Gupta was not eager enough at the time to remember, to a landmark in his country, Big Ben or something of that sort. He watched as the Englishman lectured passionately about the larger than life clock. Sighing, he propped his elbows on the table, letting his chin rest on his fingers.  
_  
'Any longer in this wretched place, and I'll-'_

The Egyptian arched his back suddenly, feeling that familiar leather material slide up his leg and into the bottom half of his linen robes. He panted constantly but discreetly, trying to keep his calm manner place.

"Are you alright, Hassan?"

He felt Sadiq's heavy boot place itself between his legs, making him cringe.

"Yeah, Gupta, ain' lookin' too good ova' there."

He ignored the Turk's comment and smiled weakly. "Y-yes. Don't mind me, Mister Kirkland, please, continue."

"Ah, very well then. As I was saying..."

His voice faded into mumbling when Gupta glared back at Sadiq, who was acted as if he was actually paying attention the babbling Englishman.

Gupta knew better than to excuse himself from the table; not only would that be rude and unprofessional, but it would also mean Sadiq would have won yet another one of his nerve racking games. He'd never let him live it down. The only way to beat the man at his own game was to, literally speaking, play _dirty_.

He had his game plan set up and ready in his mind, but he hesitated. Swallowing hard, he thought over his rather quick and unwise decision, knowing he would regret this almost immediately after the meeting. But at the same time, victory would be bitter sweet. With that in mind, he let his hands fall under the table and clutched the boot firmly, smiling when he felt the leg jolt in response.

Now it was Sadiq who held in his _own_ sounds. He could feel Gupta's grip tighten on his foot. _'So he's gettin' back at me eh? Can't win in my game, boy.' _He thought to himself, smirking. Whatever the Egyptian was planning to do, Sadiq could take it.

_'Let ta boy put scarabs in ta me boot. Fill it wit' sand, ain't gettin' a sound outta me.'_

Gupta knew exactly what Sadiq was thinking, wanting to laugh at wrong he was. He let one of his hands and his right hand stroke the boot slowly, up and down.

Sadiq's head jerked and watched the other nation tease him painfully slow. Gupta's eyes were on him, half lidded now, and his breath was heaving along with the rhythm he had created while fondling his foot. He didn't even _have _a foot fetish. Personally, Sadiq thought feet were very unattractive, but the way Gupta had a hold of him, wrapping around him like that, helpless little moans escaping from his mouth, made him _melt_ . He could almost see himself replacing the current fondled body part with a much more suited one. He shuddered, rolling his eyes back at the thought. Oh, the _things_ he could do him.

The room of nations was completely oblivious to their obvious flirting escapades, still discussing random topics and yelling in their native tongues. England was _still_ ranting about his impressive clock.

Sadiq's eyes widened as he became aware of the Egyptian's actions. That brat wanted to _win_, to put _him_ on his knees. The thought of losing upset him, and the thought of losing to someone like _him_, Gupta Hassan, made him furious. He wasn't a fan of being deprived of his dignity, especially in front of other men. Regretfully, he had to resist his teasing tactics in order to take his lead again.

He hauled his foot backwards, drawing in a few soft breaths before gaining composure.

_'Not so high 'n mighty now, eh? Heh... '_

Gupta was dismayed when he saw Sadiq catch on too fast; he needed another approach if he planned on winning. He looked down at his hands, and promptly shook his head. There was no way he was going to touch himself during a meeting. The chances of it working were fairly high, but England was a mild mannered man, and probably wouldn't invite him to another conference if he caught him groping himself for no apparent reason. There had to be another way to beat him, he wouldn't dare give up so quickly, he had far too much pride. He glanced over at Heracles, who was still sound asleep. He eyed the Greek's odd position; head titled all the way back and legs far apart from each other. How could anyone sleep like that? Honestly, it looked as if he were about to-

_'That's it!' _He thought to himself.

He threw Sadiq a satisified grin, mouthing the words, _"Watch me."_

And Sadiq obliged, amused at what he could have come up with next. He watched as Gupta raised a hand to his face, fanning himself. The motion was gradual at first, then he began to pick up speed, drawing in heavy breaths. The Englishman noticed his actions and furrowed his thick brows.

"A little stuffy in here, Hassan? Should I turn on the cooler?" Asked England.

"No need." Gupta smiled, lifting his hand to his forehead and removing his keffiyeh.

The Egyptian man had never once taken off his headpiece in public, and it was truly a sight to behold. His mahogany hair looked impeccably soft and well groomed, despite it always being under a hat all day. His glazed, golden eyes were now even more breath taking, no longer hidden under the traditional headdress. A few of the other nations whispered back and forth, most likely commenting on his sudden choice of action, but returned to their discussions soon after. With heavy eyes, Gupta began to fan himself with the keffiyeh soon after he had removed it, and started biting on the edges of the fabric.

"What the..." Sadiq was addicted to this not-so-private show now, punching his mouth softly and biting on his knuckles.

As if on cue, Gupta let the beige headpiece fall to the ground, landing underneath Heracles', who was still sleeping. He held a palm to his mouth as if saying '_oops' _and gently arched his back to the side to retrieve it.

_'Ra, I hope this works...'_

'What's he doin' now?' The Turk was getting anxious, shifting in his seat and glancing around the room, making sure no one else had their eyes on him _or_ Gupta, for that matter.

Gupta continued to pat the ground purposely, a mischievous look on his face. Finally, Sadiq got a peek of his head, but only midway, catching a mere glimpse of the lower right side of his face, and watched as he dived again. Then, he came back up, his mouth curved into a delicate 'o', and went under again. He continued to do this questionable gesture, and soon started to pick up speed.

Turkey suddenly recognized the motion.

"**GAHH-!**"

And this time, he didn't hold back.

He didn't gain much attention from the unusual noise, just a few glances from the men sitting beside him. But at the moment, he couldn't care less _who_ was staring. At the moment, Egypt was all that mattered. The more he watched, the more the image became clear in his mind. The way that damned Greek was seated, only his waist up being visible from Sadiq's point of view. The way his head leaned all the way back, drool trickling down the side of his face, and his legs open at such an angle. The way the Egyptian's head rose and fell, his heavy breaths and his wet lips curved in the shape of a ring.

Gupta was making it look as if he was giving Heracles head.

And Sadiq was _enjoying_ it.

He tried his best to ignore the erection building in his pants, tried to shake it off and look away but he just couldn't quite bring himself to do so. All he could do was watch painfully, thinking that _he_ should be getting that heavenly treatment from Gupta, not that pig _Heracles_. Of course, he knew it was pretense,but the illusion alone made Sadiq want to run across the table and fuck him senseless.

Gupta could see his crossed legs twitch and tremble underneath the table and grinned. That was his cue to stop. He knew very well he had won Sadiq's little game, and was fairly pleased with himself. Quickly, he ascended from under the table and adjusted his keffiyeh back on his head and smiled, rubbing his mouth with the side of his hand for the finishing touch. With that, he turned and faced Turkey, propping his elbows up again to hold his chin.

"I win." He whispered.

Sadiq's eyes narrowed as he scoffed, obviously being able to hear him and still a tad bitter about his loss. He, the once Great Ottoman Empire, was about keel over for _Egypt_. He raised the kid for God's sakes, like his own son. Ungrateful brat, teasing him like that in front of the world to see. He'd get him back, he swore on it.

"Meeting adjourned!" Arthur declared, hands clasped together. "Thank you all for coming."

Sadiq felt something pierce through his pants at the sound of the Englishman's final word, groaning and rising from his seat promptly. "Fackin' kid..." He hissed. Anymore pressure down below and he'd_ explode_. He needed a place to relieve himself and _fast_.

He cussed under his breath and walked over to Gupta, who was chatting with a now fully awake Heracles. He leaned over his neck from behind, lifting the linen that covered his ears.

"_Akıllı, kirli çocuk fikirli._" He breathed before walking away. Gupta felt another wide grin begin to tug at his lips.

"Where is that old fuck going in such a hurry?" Heracles asked, dumbfounded.

"To take care of unfinished business, I hope." Gupta replied smugly.

----

**A/N: **Well, I personally had fun writing this, all the bad puns especially. I love this pairing almost as much as I love Greece x Turkey. I also made Gupta out of character, something you also probably noticed, to go with the story's humor. Thanks for reading!

**Translations:**

**Ra **– An Egyptian Sun God. I did some research and have found that he was considered one of the most important. I _know_ a large percentage of Egypt is Muslim, I just like tracing him back to his roots.

**Keffiyeh –** A traditional Turkish headdress, worn to protect people from sun exposure.

**_Akıllı, kirli çocuk fikirli._**- "Clever, dirty minded child." in Turkish.


End file.
